Thorns on the Rose
by Iliya Moroumetz
Summary: Written for the Tron Female Character Ficathon: Quorra experiences her first day in our world. [Post Legacy]


Written for masksarehot.

Prompt: Quorra's first full day in our world.

Notes: G, gen [Light Quorra/Sam], Post-Legacy

* * *

'What's more imperfect than our world?'

She remembers Kevin Flynn saying that when he and Sam reunited. It has left her wondering about many things about those 'imperfections' that he spoke about. However, it did not detract at all the sight of her first sunrise. She blinked a few times at the sight of the gargantuan glowing sphere in the eastern sky, covered partially by clouds, as it inched up through the mountains.

"So, what do you think?" Sam asks quietly with a smirk as he stands on his bike.

She pauses for a moment to let the heat from the sun accelerate the molecules in her skin. Flesh and blood. That was what they were called. She feels the warmth in her hands. The warmth of the sun. The warmth of the leather protecting her from the chill fall morning.

She turns to him and smiles. "It is as you said. Is it always like this?"

He shrugs. "Depends on where on the planet you are." He inclined his hear north. "If you lived at the top of the world, you wouldn't be seeing it for a while or for too long."

She would like to see that. The sun felt wonderful. However, the slight unease she had in the back of her head returned. While it did not spoil the moment, it did give her cause to reflect noticeably.

"What's wrong?" he asks, perceptive of her discomfort.

"Sam. Your father once said that your world is imperfect," she began calmly. "I want to see how. The Grid was beautiful in its own right, but it too held its imperfections. I want to see for myself."

The smile on his face fades and he sighs visibly. "You sure?"

She nodded. She did not wish to see the world in the extremes as Clu saw it.

She saw the flash of inspiration on his eyes as he smiled and hefted her the helmet he had gotten for her. "Alright. Hop on."

* * *

That evening, Sam and Quorra slowly entered the Our Lady of Perpetual Responsibility's soup kitchen and met the man in charge.

"Mr. Flynn," Heath Faller, the head of the kitchen said he took Sam's hand, "Mr. Bradley told me you'd be here and you brought someone else?"

He nodded and inclined his head to her. "This is Quorra."

The old man smiled and shook her hand gingerly. "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Quorra."

Eager to ask questions as to the functions of both the church and what they were doing, she was forced to hold back when one of the other workers had to move through them with a large pot of beef stew to the front of the building.

"You can follow Theodore," he inclined his head to the worker who just passed them, "and help serve the people in the front. They could use the extra bodies."

"Sure thing," Sam nodded and inclined his head to the direction they were to go.

* * *

For the next four hours, Quorra had never seen such a large variety of people as she and Sam assisted with everything from serving small bowls of prepared hot food, speaking with people, handing out survival packs for those that needed it. and more.

When they were done for the night, however, it left her disturbingly quiet. The people who had suffered so felt so familiar to her. Battered girlfriends, homeless men with nothing but the clothes on their back, runaway children, destitute families on the brink of starvation; it rang all too familiar to the oppression of Clu's regime back on the grid. The only difference was that there was a world full of people and their numbers were no doubt greater than the programs on the Grid, locked in a seemingly neverending cycle of suffering.

She closed her eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath.

"You alright?" Sam asked as he stepped on to his bike, waiting for her.

She looked to him, seeing the initial reluctance to do something he had described as 'Alan's attempts at making me a better man' and saw him flourish with people that needed help by being the person they needed at that moment.

A smile slowly crept over her face when she realized that Sam, like Kevin, had made all the difference in the world to her. Perhaps, given time, she would find people she could be able to make a difference to as well.

Starting with the one in front of her.

"Yes. I am, Sam."

THE END

* * *

My first Tron fic! I want to write more, but there's too many variables! I am paralyzed by choice!

Thank you for taking the time to read. And please, tell me what you think of it. :)


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